


En Route

by Verasteine



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Episode Related, Episode Tag, Episode: s02e10 Kiʻilua (Deceiver), Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-25
Updated: 2011-11-25
Packaged: 2018-02-21 22:25:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2484521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verasteine/pseuds/Verasteine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Getting Steve out is a longer journey than just flying back across the border.</p>
            </blockquote>





	En Route

By the time they're back across the border, Steve's eyes are falling shut, and every few seconds Danny catches him jerking his head up after he's nodded off. Joe's hand stays on Steve's shoulder the whole time, and when they finally set down and everyone scrambles off the chopper, Steve seems to have difficulty standing up.

When Danny moves to take the rifle out of Steve's hands, Steve reels back, clutching the gun like a lifeline.

Danny freezes, holds up his hands, palms out, until Steve nods and relinquishes his grip on the rifle, and Danny takes it from him, slings it over his shoulder, and leans in to grip Steve's arm and help pull him up. "Hey," he says over the dying sounds of the rotor blades, "I'll give it back to you later."

Steve laughs, but doesn't speak.

\--

Danny deposits him on Frank's sofa, and Steve struggles to sit up, refuses to lie down.

"Would you just--" Danny flaps a hand at him, his own exhaustion and post-op tremors catching up with him, making him antsy and generally not inclined to be soft on rescued SEALs.

"I'm fine," Steve complains, his voice rough and low, and it makes Danny realise he hasn't heard Steve speak in hours.

He looks at him with a raised eyebrow, can't believe he has to say this out loud. "You are far from 'fine', my friend. In fact, you are so far removed from fine the doctors will take one look at you back on Oahu and keep you in hospital for a _week_."

Steve makes a scoffing sound, which turns into a cough halfway through, and Danny reaches for the water bottle someone left nearby, twisting off the cap and handing it over. Steve takes a few sips, slowly leans back into the ratty old sofa. "I'm good, Danny," he says, resting his head on the back. "Don't need doctors."

Danny frowns at him, but Steve's barely aware of it, which sort of takes the power out of it. "You should get some sleep."

"I'll sleep later."

Danny sucks in a breath to argue, warms up to yell at Steve properly, but Steve's eyes are sliding shut of their own accord.

\--

Danny steps into the kitchen and there's maps on the table and routes being plotted, and Kono is arguing with Wade over whether or not they should split into groups when travelling to Seoul.

"How's Steve?" Chin asks.

"Asleep." Danny rubs a hand over his jaw. "What's up?"

"We need to keep moving, considering there's still one hostile on the loose." Joe glances at him, then back at the maps. "We could make Seoul by nightfall."

"Not with the condition Steve's in."

"He can sleep on the road," Joe says. "Wo Fat has considerable resources and this close to the border, we are vulnerable to attack."

"I've booked us all tickets out of Seoul for tomorrow," Kono says, giving him a quick smile. "Joe's right, it's best if we keep moving."

Danny looks at the maps, at the dots and distances that make up how close or how far they are from relative safety, and gives to superior advice. "Okay."

"Everybody should eat something, get some rest, and we'll leave in one hour," Joe says.

Danny nods, and heads back to the living room.

\--

Steve stirs before Danny can wake him, like a second sense makes him aware of increased movement around the house. He winces when he tries to speak the first time, and Danny hands him the water bottle again.

Steve's fingers slip on the cap, and Danny has to take it back and unscrew it.

"What's going on?" Steve says, slurring a little, the bruising around his mouth distorting his words.

"We're moving soon," Danny replies, and doesn't miss the way Steve's eyes go wide for a second.

\--

The potholes in the road make Steve wince, but he doesn't move, stays tucked into the corner of the truck with his eyes fixed on the back.

"You should get some rest," Danny says, gestures to the crappy camping mattress and pile of blankets someone, probably Kono, arranged on the truck bed.

"I'm fine," Steve replies without looking at him.

"You are fine? Did you look at yourself in the mirror? Did I not mention to you that you are not fine? What are you waiting for, the moment you actually keel over? _Lie down_." Steve doesn't take his eyes away from the spot he's staring at, and his fingers twitch idly, making Danny's heart clench. "Hey." No reply. "Hey, Steve. Hey, look at me."

Finally, Steve drags his eyes away, defiantly, whole body thrumming with fight-or-flight tension.

"We got this one, okay, buddy? You wanna maybe trust us and take a nap? Because I, myself, would quite like it if you didn't die of exhaustion after all the effort we've been through to get you back, huh?"

"Danny..."

"Come on. Kono went through all this trouble, go sleep in the nice camp bed. I've got your back." Steve looks at him with an assessing gaze, and that hurts, but Danny will make allowances for now. He gestures to the rifle lying by his side. "I've got a gun right here, Steven. I know how to shoot people."

Steve glances at the rifle, swallows, but takes a good ten seconds before he actually moves to lie down.

\--

Danny doesn't ask how Kono manages to get them all hotel rooms at short notice this late at night; he's just grateful there's a room with a bed and a shower. Steve's eyes light up at the sight of a comfortable mattress, and Danny grins, can't help the way it splits his face.

"You wanna hit the shower, babe? You think you can manage that without passing out?"

Steve nods. "I'll, uh, I'll be okay."

Danny doubts that, doubts that a lot, worries his bottom lip so as not to say it. "Okay, off you go. Don't use all the hot water."

Steve's mouth twists into a smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

\--

When he comes back out, he's swaying a little on his feet, and he's stripped down to his boxers. It leaves the evidence of the past few days visible on his body, like bad tells.

Danny's mouth is dry when he swallows and looks away. "You should take the bed. I won't even flip you for it."

Steve's answering smile is tired, but it's a lot more sincere. "Thanks, D."

\--

Steve shifts uncomfortably in his sleep, but Danny watches him long enough to be sure he won't wake before slipping out the balcony door. The city is a bundle of glistening lights, and if it weren't for the different script the neon words are written in, the different sounds drifting up, Danny could pretend they were on Oahu already.

He takes a deep breath of the stale air.

Behind his eyelids, the images keep repeating; Jenna's dead body, the chains dangling from the ceiling, Steve's eyes when he saw Danny's face. Steve thought he was a dead man, and he has the scars to prove it; deep, dark bruises that tell too little of what happened in that room, and too much.

His eyes burn, and he digs his fingers into them, takes another deep, shuddering breath. This city feels deceptively like safety, but Danny knows it isn't, feels the weight of Steve sleeping in the room behind him on his shoulders.

The tears sting, and he lets a few fall in silence, pushes the rest back by force of will.

\--

"Danny?"

Steve's rasping voice startles him completely. He turns, one hand still on the cold balcony railing, to find Steve in the doorway, duvet wrapped around his shoulders. "What are you doing out of bed?"

Steve gives him a raised eyebrow. "I can walk, Danny." He peers past Danny's shoulder. "What are you doing out here? Something up?"

"No, it's--" Danny gestures randomly. "It's fine. Get back inside before you catch your death." Steve winces at that, and Danny bites his lip, makes a shooing motion at him until Steve backs up.

In the light of the room, the bruises on Steve's face are starkly visible, and Danny already knows what his chest looks like. He looks away to avoid staring, and Steve clears his throat. "Uh... You okay?"

Danny wipes at his eyes automatically. "I am fine. Go back to bed."

Steve shuffles back awkwardly, falls down onto the mattress gracelessly and winces, tugs on the duvet ineffectually. With a heaving sigh, Danny goes over to straighten it for him, avoids looking at Steve's bruised feet, and Steve has the gall to look embarrassed.

"Oh, don't even start," Danny snaps, "I don't even want to know what's going on inside that head of yours, Steven, most people need a while after having the shit kicked out of them, and I don't know, whatever else--"

"Cattle prod," Steve interrupts quietly, like stating a fact.

For a moment, red and black spots dance in front of Danny's eyes; he's back in the room with the chains dangling from the ceiling and Jenna's dead body on the floor. He nearly says, _I do not want to know_ before stopping himself. "Steve--"

"I'm fine, Danny."

"You are not fine! Stop saying you are fine!" Danny paces along the length of the bed, turns at the end and points a finger at Steve. "You--" He loses track of what to say because there are too many words crowding in his mind. Steve blinks up at him from the bed, looking smaller somehow under the duvet, and Danny blurts out, "I thought you were dead, asshole."

Steve nods, slowly, shifts carefully and hides a wince. "I thought so, too."

"Normal people, Steven, normal people don't just shrugs that off, okay? Normal people, like myself, need a moment. This is me, taking a moment."

"Danny--"

"Don't Danny me. You have no right to Danny me, and no right to say you are 'fine', because you are not, the only reason I'm not dragging you off to hospital right now is that we're in this place that I fucking hate and it's not safe. You can bet your skinny ass I will be dragging you to a doctor as soon as we land, okay, Steven, and I want no argument, I--"

"Danny. _Danny_."

He stops ranting only when Steve struggles into a sitting position and threatens to swing his legs over the edge of the bed. "What are you doing?"

Steve blinks at him.

"Get back into bed."

"I will if you sit down," Steve replies aggravatingly.

"Don't tell me what to do," Danny snaps, and Steve sits up, swings his legs over the edge and stands. "What is this?" Danny says with a gesture.

"Danny, you gotta put it away, man. For now, okay?" Steve takes a step towards him, and _oh, no_ , this is not how they're doing this, Danny doesn't want to see this up close, no duvet covering Steve's chest, the bruises, the marks he now knows the cause of. "You can fall apart later."

"I'm not falling apart," Danny replies, hears the petulance in his own voice. "Steve--" He can't continue, because there are no more words, and Steve is right in front of him. Danny stretches out a hand without thinking about it, touches the pads of his fingers to a bruise on Steve's chest, and Steve hisses, curves his fingers over Danny's.

The dark, deep bruise around his wrist makes the rest of his skin look pale, fragile. It's not a Steve word, it's wrong, Danny shouldn't be thinking it.

He rubs his thumb over Steve's hand, and Steve squeezes his fingers. Danny drags his eyes up to Steve's face, tries and fails to unsee the marks there. "Steve..."

"Right here," Steve replies, voice low.

Danny pulls him closer at that, into his embrace, the way he's wanted to since Steve went missing, but only realised now that he needed. He tries not to hold him too close, mindful of the injuries Steve's sporting fucking everywhere, slides his nose along Steve's hair.

This is not what they do, this is what Danny's been avoiding doing, avoiding thinking, because it's stupid, because they're partners, because a few months ago Danny had his life torn apart by Rachel, and Steve-- But he can't stop himself, can't help pressing a kiss against Steve's hair, can't help following it up as he pulls back, kissing Steve's ear, the stubble on his cheek. "Stop me," he whispers, "jesus, Steve--"

Steve doesn't, tilts his head away, and Danny presses a kiss to his neck, to his shoulder, mouths at the edge of the tattoo curving over Steve's upper arm before lifting his head. Steve is swaying a little on his feet, eyes half closed, and Danny says, "You should be in bed."

"Huh?"

"You should be in bed," Danny repeats, prods him a little.

"Not without you."

"Jesus." Danny shakes his head. "If you think--"

"Not thinking anything, just-- want you there." Steve leans into him and Danny wraps an arm around his shoulders, leads him back to the bed. Steve sinks back down into mattress, halfway back to exhausted, but still reaching for Danny with one hand.

"We should talk about this," Danny says as he strips off his trousers and shirt. "This is crazy, Steve, this is really, really stupid, you know it."

"Took you long enough," Steve slurs, turning his head slowly to look at Danny, and _oh, okay_ , the penny drops.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Didn't-- didn't want to say something, you and Rachel--" Steve makes a floppy gesture.

Danny slides in between the sheets, shaking his head, and carefully finds a space for himself. He settles a hand on Steve's hip. "Tell me if this is okay for you."

"It's good," Steve replies. He shifts a little to settle his head on Danny's chest.

"Go to sleep," Danny says needlessly.

\--

Steve starts at the knock on the door, wakes with a groan and a wince, and Danny rubs his thumb over Steve's skin briefly before sliding out of bed, picking up his gun from the nightstand.

He opens the door a crack, and Chin is on the other side. "Hey, man. You guys okay?"

"Yeah," Danny says with a sigh, turns around and briefly gives Steve a thumbs up sign, watching as Steve relaxes, breathes out slowly.

Danny doesn't like the shadows in his eyes one bit, but it's going to be a while.

"I got you some stuff, breakfast and some clothes for Steve. Be ready to move in an hour, okay?"

"Sure." Danny takes the bag he offers with a quick smile. "Thanks, Chin."

"No problem. See you soon."

Danny closes the door, dumps the bag by the side of the bed. "How are you feeling?"

Steve squints up at him. "Better."

"Yeah?" He doesn't have much faith in Steve's self-diagnosis, sits down on the side of the bed and roots around the bag. He pulls out bottles of water, something that looks bread-like and edible, a box of paracetamol and some medical supplies, and a stack of clothes.

Steve pulls himself up into a sitting position, stiffly, wincing all the way. Danny hands him the paracetamol and water without another word, watches as Steve takes two tablets and manages to uncap the water bottle with trembling muscles. He leans his head back against the wall to catch his breath, and Danny takes the bottle from his grasp and sets it on the nightstand.

"Danny." Steve's hand grips his wrist. "Did I dream last night or did that happen?"

"You mean did I take advantage of you at an ill-advised moment? Yeah, that happened, and I apologise."

Steve meets his eyes, gaze intent. "Don't."

"Okay," Danny says slowly, "I don't apologise."

Steve lets go of his wrist to cup his face, and Danny knows what'll happen next, leans in to meet Steve halfway and kisses him gently. The angle is a bit awkward, and when Steve deepens it, Danny shivers, tries to shift closer just as Steve pulls away.

Steve brings his fingers up to his face, touches his bruised mouth, swearing under his breath. He catches Danny's eye and smiles, and for a moment, it takes Danny's breath away.

"We," he says, gesturing between them, "are going to do some of this properly once you are," he flaps a general hand at Steve, "better, uh, equipped."

Steve starts to laugh before Danny's own words catch up with him, and he wants to groan in embarrassment, but Steve stops laughing, face a mask of pain as he clutches his ribs.

"Hey, hey." Danny moves in, puts a hand on Steve's shoulder. "Easy, breathe slowly."

Steve's fingers dig into his arm as he nods, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Seriously, I will never bitch about Hawaii ever again," Danny says apropos of nothing, "just as soon as we get back there."

"Yes, you will," Steve argues, a little breathless.

"Okay, I will," Danny agrees, "but not for a while."

"I'll keep you to that."

"You do that. Better?"

Steve nods.

"Good. Now I'm thinking I'll shower first, and you eat, and then we changes places."

"Deal," Steve says, and Danny has to tear himself away from that smile.

\--

When Steve comes out of the shower, already looking like he would like to crawl back into bed, Danny has the limited medical supplies Chin provided them with spread out in front of him.

Steve sits down on the edge of the bed, exchanges a brief look with Danny.

"For the record," Danny says slowly, "I hate this as much as you do."

"I know."

Danny hates the way Steve can be stoic in the face of the inevitable, like, say, his impending death at the hands of Wo Fat. He shoves the unbidden images down and concentrates on what's in front of him. He can't do anything for the bruises, but the burns on Steve's chest have opened and are oozing fluid, and Danny grits his teeth as he carefully cleans them with antiseptic.

Above him, Steve can't quite suppress a groan, and Danny bites his lip hard enough to draw blood, disconnects himself from who he's doing this to, keeps working with as steady hands as he can manage until the burns are cleaned and dressed.

Steve is breathing hard when he's done, sweat at his temples, and Danny holds his gaze. "Okay?"

Steve nods. "I'm good, just--" He makes a quick gesture.

Danny sinks down to his knees and carefully takes one of Steve's feet in his hands, feeling the tremor that runs through Steve's frame. His feet are bruised and scraped and there's too fucking little Danny can do for him. He clenches his teeth, sets about cleaning and bandaging, first one foot and then the other.

When he's finished, he packs the supplies away, stands on shaky legs and wanders out to the balcony, takes a few deep breaths to try and clamp down on the urge to scream.

"Danny?"

He looks over his shoulder to find Steve stretched out carefully on the bed, looking everything but fine. He's holding a shirt in his hand, and Danny nods, heads back to help him sit up and put it on. Steve buttons it up with shaky, bruised fingers, and Danny hates it, hates every second of it.

"I'm here," Steve says, voice low.

"I know." Danny looks at him, knows they're close to getting back home. "Just a little longer, right?"

Steve smiles. "Yeah."

Danny leans in at that, presses a soft kiss to that smile, a promise against the future because he needs something to fortify himself with. Steve leans in, tipping his head forward onto Danny's shoulder, and Danny shifts so Steve can lean against his chest.

\--

Joe takes everyone's guns and they disappear mysteriously, and Danny feels vulnerable, sees it reflected in Steve's eyes, which have gone a little crazy. He sways standing up, and Danny's not sure they'll get him onto the flight without him falling over. Chin is on Steve's other side, both of them ready to catch him should that happen.

Kono is using the automated check-in desk, printing out boarding passes for all of them. So close and yet so far, everyone is thrumming with nerves.

"Got 'em." Kono returns triumphantly, distributes papers to each of them. "Let's go."

Joe, Wade, and the soldiers go through first, Kono and Lori next, and Danny, Steve, and Chin bring up the rear. The customs official looks over his desk at them. "What happened to him?"

Chin glances at Steve, Steve glances at Danny, and Danny pastes the biggest casual smile of his face he can find among his nerves and says, "Bar fight. Too much booze last night."

There is an exchange of looks between various officials, and one of them starts to laugh, says something in Korean, and Danny automatically laughs, too, though he's holding his breath.

The official waves them forward. Steve sways a little, and Danny puts a hand on his back, doesn't dare do anything more until they're around the corner, in sight of the plane.

"You okay?"

Steve nods, puts one foot before the other and winces with every step. When they get to the plane, the flight attendant looks at them oddly, but points them to their seats without question, where Kono and the rest are already seated.

Steve sits down gracelessly, nearly falling into the chair, and Danny takes the seat next to him, strapping in. He glances at Steve, the nearly grey pallor to his skin, the sweat at his temples. "Nearly there, babe."

Steve rolls his head to look at him, twitches a smile that never reaches his eyes. "Yeah, Danny."

The engines power up slowly, the whining thrum being the sweetest sound Danny's heard in a while.

\--

Steve falls asleep an hour into the flight, pure exhaustion dragging him under, and jerks awake every time someone walks past, eyes wild and hands clenching at his seat. By the time they land, he looks no more rested than when they took off, and when they make their way off the plane, he is moving at a slow pace that seriously worries Danny.

"You need painkillers?"

"Thanks." Steve swallows them without an argument, takes a gulp of water to wash them down with and continues, follows everyone to the customs area mindlessly. Danny doesn't move from his side until they have to hand over their passports, and the official smiles.

"Welcome home." He stamps the passport and hands it back, and Danny turns away, just fast enough to watch Steve sway and falter, and to yell his name before managing to catch him as he goes down.

"Steve, hey. Come on, _Steve_."

Steve blinks up at him, pushing himself up on one elbow as a crowd forms around them. "I'm okay, just--" When he sits up he wavers, and Danny places a hand on his shoulder to gently push him back down.

"You are not okay, you are going straight to hospital."

"Danny, I don't want to sit in a waiting room for ages, I just--"

"I'll make some calls, brah," Chin says, kneeling by his side, "let you jump the queue. Come on."

Steve sits up, but makes no attempts to stand, and Danny can't pull his hand back, finds himself not wanting to let go. "Okay," Steve says finally. "All right."

Kono comes back from where she was talking to the officials, probably placating them, and says, "Joe's bringing the car around. You okay to walk, boss?"

When Steve stands it becomes painfully obvious that he isn't, and Danny props him up to help him, listening to every pained sound Steve makes the whole way through the terminal.

\--

Danny makes a mental note to send Malia the biggest bunch of flowers on the island, because as soon as they arrive at the ER, there's a gurney waiting. Steve closes his eyes upon contact with the pillow, opens them again a second later and gropes for Danny's hand, and Danny squeezes his fingers and holds on, watches as Steve's eyes slide shut again.

He starts violently when they want to put the IV in, and Danny leans over the bed. "It's okay, babe, relax, we're home."

Steve meets his eyes. "Danny..."

"Yeah, right here. I'll look out for you."

"'kay."

He falls asleep like that, Danny's hand still in his, and sleeps right through most of the examination and tests.

\--

The sun is setting by the time they release him, with the advice to stay off his feet and get plenty of rest. Steve is more awake by this point, nodding along to the advice.

"Don't think," Danny warns him, "I didn't see that go in one ear and out the other."

"What?"

"I'm on to you, is what I'm saying."

"Shut up, Danny." Steve leans back and stares out the car window.

Danny reaches over and puts his hand on Steve's knee, because he can, now, and okay, they still need to talk about this thing, this massively stupid thing they're embarking on, but it can wait. He parks the car and gets out, finds Steve already taking careful steps towards the front door.

"God, nothing slows you down, does it?"

Steve shoots him a grin. "Wouldn't you like to know."

Something unfurls in Danny's stomach, hot and fiery, and he manages to shoot back, "Don't make promises you can't keep." Steve smiles, leaning heavily against the wall as he unlocks the door, and Danny puts his hand over Steve's, feels how much he's trembling. "You're off to bed, babe, no arguments."

"Yeah, yeah." Steve steps inside, looking around briefly before heading straight for the stairs. Danny tries to follow without it seeming like he's hovering too much, but he has a feeling he's failing.

Steve drags himself up, goes into the bedroom, and sits down on the edge of the bed. He glances up. "Danny..."

"Hmm?"

"We-- this-- you--"

"In English?" Danny says with a smile.

Steve makes a frustrated gesture. "It wasn't just-- just Korea, was it? I mean, you are here, well, you live here right now, but--"

"No." Danny's smile widens. "What happened in Korea doesn't stay in Korea, babe." Then adds after a pause, "Unless you want to blame the painkillers."

Steve shakes his head. "No."

Danny breathes out a relieved breath. "Okay. Okay, good."

"Will you--" Steve swallows and breaks off, looks away.

"Will I what? Tell me."

Steve looks up and meets his eyes. "Will you sleep here tonight?"

"Hell yeah." Danny can't stop himself, goes over and kneels in front of Steve, leans in for a soft kiss. Steve kisses him back, leaning forward, making a soft sound against Danny's mouth. "You should get some rest. Plenty of time for that later."

 _Now that I have you back alive_. He can't suppress the shudder, and Steve quirks an eyebrow at him, but Danny shakes his head. "Bed," he says sternly.

"Shut up," Steve replies, but does undress and slide under the sheets.

Danny heads downstairs to lock up, comes back upstairs to find Steve staring at the door, waiting for him. Danny strips off quickly, slides into bed with him, curling around Steve without crowding him too much. Steve settles against him.

Danny can't help himself, presses a kiss against Steve's hair. "You don't do this again, you hear me?" he says softly.

"I'm sorry, Danny."

The helplessness in Steve's voice makes him want to get angry, but it's the nature of their job and he doesn't really want Steve any other way. "Okay," he manages, rubbing his nose against Steve's cheek, "but not this year."

"I'll try."

"Liar."

Steve chuckles softly, stops laughing to catch his breath. Danny puts a careful arm over his chest, avoiding the bandages and the worst of the bruising.

"Danny?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"Are you okay?"

He can't blink without remembering, but it'll have to do. "I'm fine," he says.

"You're not fine," Steve argues.

"Fine, okay, I'm not. I will be, whatever."

Steve's fingers curl over his arm. "I've got your back, okay?"

"Yeah," Danny replies, "yeah, okay."

\--  
 _finis_.


End file.
